The other day I came across a subgenre of novel that I had never heard of before: Amish romance. On one level, this…
Dan glanced at his watch. His eleven thirty appointment was due in five, yet another doer of good in search of a tech…
The cold air of early fall swept down from the mountains behind Saura, shaking the brown leaves on the trees. She drew…
Paul’s hands caressed the silver cross as they had many times before, its two pounds weighing heavy in his grasp. He traced the…
John plodded down the sidewalk, taking care not to step on the cracks and joints in the concrete. He did not know the reason for doing this; it…
When I think about what I know of Joey Martin, the most striking thing that I remember is his belief that he could fly.
The pine forest was thick in the bottomland, but the bed of needles cushioned the man’s feet. He’d been walking for miles — a…